


Two years and counting

by AssyEr



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: And titles, Angst, Cannibalism Mentions, Cuddling & Snuggling, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, They are sad, They talk, about wanting to go home, and cannibal chickens mentioned, as for carmilla, but its fine jonny gives them alcohol in the end, i cant believe i forgot the angst tag, no beta we die like men, only mentioned referenced but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26153833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssyEr/pseuds/AssyEr
Summary: That night was the two-year anniversary of the war. Two years since they had been sent to the moon to fight.Jonny has alcohol to share. Bertie and Tim would prefer to talk.
Relationships: Bertie/Jonny d'Ville/Gunpowder Tim
Comments: 16
Kudos: 90
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	Two years and counting

**Author's Note:**

> written for writers month, prompt being dream. Maybe one day ill catch up with the challange-

Jonny was drunk, but that was fine, because everybody was drunk.

It was a special date after all. Today was the two years anniversary of the war against the Moon Kaiser, a war that had been promised would only last a couple months at most.

(Like all wars)

The people in charge were not idiots. They knew what kind of feelings it would stir among the soldiers, and maybe they were a little afraid of what they would make of it. Munities and desertion were never shorts in war, after all. But they hadn’t reached upstairs without knowing a thing or two about how the collective mind worked, so they prepared a small party. A year less of war, a year closer from freedom from the Kaiser, they said.

Of course, it was all an excuse to do what they really needed to do. Give them alcohol.

Whole shipments of it, a bottle or three for every man, a gift from their queen, who hadn’t forgotten. There was food, also, but no one paid any mind to that.

That’s how, for one night, the usual grim and dark camping site of the 47th Starborn division became a loud, bright mess. Drunk people were dancing to the radio, bottle in hand, or playing cards. For this night all generals made a blind eye to the betting and general indecency. Jonny had already won three good bottles of whisky, being the best cheater on the camp, and was tumbling towards Bertie and Tim's tent, not having seen them anywhere else, wanting to brag his prize.

(And maybe, exchange some of it for any good or service.

He could even try to get Bertie drunk! He had never seen him drunk, but had the feeling that it would be very, very fun.)

He got a bit distracted on the way, winning himself a pack of cigarettes and a new belt, but eventually got there.

The place was quieter than the centre of the settlement, where most of the people had gathered. The only ones that weren’t there were those who wanted to do things that could not, even today, be excused if seen, like drugs or conspiracy or depression. But there was one thin light inside the tent, barely enough to see, but a sure confirmation that there was someone inside.

He was not too worried about what they were doing. Best case, they had wanted to escape the noise and bulging. It wouldn’t be out of character, they didn’t have many friends among the rest of the division, and often choose to retreat to themselves. And worst case, well, whatever it was he would probably be happy to help.

And so he entered the tent, big grin on his face and three bottles under his arm. “I brought alcohol!”

He found himself staring to a very different picture from the one he had imagined.

The ‘beds' if you could call the old rags that, had long since moved together to a corner. There, sitting against a pole, was Tim, with Bertie cuddled up on top of him.

He had his long hair down, and his chin resting on top of Bertie's head. He was hugging the man very closely, and didn’t seem to notice his arrival. To Jonny’s horror, there were tears on his face. Bertie was no better either.

Jonny got the impression that he was interrupting something private. Taking advantage of the fact that he had not yet been spotted, he took a turn to the exit.

“Jonny?” it was Bertie's voice.

Goddammit.

“I'm sorry, didn’t want to intrude”, he said, neither moving to face them or walk out.

“You're not intruding"

Jonny faced them. “Look, you’re clearly having something, and-"

“Of course we are" Bertie cut him. “Don’t you know the date?”

“Exactly. So, I’ll just make my way to the cards and cigarettes...”

“Don’t”. Tim.

He was looking up at him, now. His eyes were red, from crying he guessed, and for the first time since he met him, they appeared calm. No, not calm. Sad. Resigned.

“You can go, if you want. But I would ratter you stayed", he finished.

What was he supposed to do with that? “I really don’t think it’s my place-"

“Bullshit". Jonny was taken back by hearing Bertie swear. “You have been here the same time as us. You've all the right.” He paused. “We want you here".

Jonny opened his mouth to say something. What exactly, he didn’t know, but they should know that he was not like them. He had _wanted_ to come here. He enjoyed every second, every year. Unlike them, he didn’t wake up thinking they were being attacked. He didn’t sing to distract himself from his friends coughing blood and meat. When he closed his eyes, he didn’t see bodies filled with light from the heat of the Lenny's lasers.

He got drunk, and laughed, and prayed for this to go on forever, because the years he spent fighting on the moon were the best he ever had.

He didn’t feel like he deserved that.

“Please", said Tim, voice so small. Where was the man that laughed at his shitty aim in the middle of the battlefield?

He couldn’t say no to that. But he shouldn’t say yes, either, it wouldn’t be right. So he said nothing, and went to them when Tim opened an arm in welcome.

Jonny got himself next to Bertie, both of them trapped in Tim's arms, who had extended his hug to cover the extra body. He was, like always, on the left side of the bed. It was the closest to the exit, which meant that he could always get up on the middle of the night and go back to his own tent with the Toy Soldier, and his harmonica, and all of his belts. 

Sitting upright and stiff, he didn’t know what to do. What was expected of him. He started to regret his decision, until Tim shoved him into his chest. Not that he offered much of a resistance, either. The pressure was nice, and the sound of his heartbeat resulted painfully comforting. He felt Tim nuzzle his face into his hair, and closed his eyes.

Even if it ended up breaking them, this were the best years of his life. He hoped the war never finished.

Bertie was on Tim’s right side, facing him. He was curled up on himself, and on the other man, with his head resting on his shoulder. He had Jonny's coat around him (he recognized it by the patch of the Aurora on the side), but that didn’t strike him as odd. He must have given it to him at some point, or forgotten it here. It wouldn’t be the first time he stole his clothes either.

His eyes were focussed on him with such attention that made him want to shift on his place.

“So, what were you doing?” he asked instead.

“We are having half an hour to feel sorry for ourselves. After that, we go back to supressing our emotions. You came in late, tough, and there's only fifteen minutes left, so you'll have to hurry" Bertie told him with half a smile.

Tim caressed his arm.

“I'm not sure what to say", he muttered, because he was certain ‘I don’t want this to ever end' is not what was expected from him.

“That's alright. We were talking about what we would do if we went home today" said Bertie, and reached his arms towards Jonny. He did his best as not to flinch, while he toyed with his coat. “We were going to live on a farm, because according to Tim that's not up for discussion.”

“Damn right you are", he confirmed.

“And we would have some cows, and a horse. One of those big brown ones that carry those floats you see on parades, with the ribbons on the mane, and the hairy hoofs.” He smiled as he talked.

“That's on Bertie, if you hadn’t realised,” Tim said.

“Well, what’s the point of living in the countryside if you don’t get to have a horse?”

“You don’t know shit about horses"

“I can learn.” He looked back at Jonny. “We are going to have geese, too"

“ _A goose"_ , Tim corrected. “I don’t know why you even want one of those, they are the devil incarnated"

“No, they aren’t", protested Bertie. “They are only aggressive if you are annoying them. Or if they decided they don’t like you. And besides, if you are going to want to have ducks, you'll want someone there to protect them from predators"

“I guess you have a point there”, Tim conceded. “We should name it Jonny".

“What?” said the man in question, upon hearing his name. “No.”

“Oh, you are right. Our geese will definitely have Jonny's vibes"

Tim didn’t let it pass. “ _Goose"_ , he said. “And of course it will. I can already see it running through the propriety, screaming at everything that moves"

Jonny couldn’t take it, not now.

“Fuck off", he said, untangling himself from the pair's hold, reaching for a bottle.

“Jonny? Are you alright?” Bertie asked.

He moved away to sit alone on the bed, taking a drink of whiskey.

Was that really what they wanted? Just, settling down in some stupid farm, both of them together, amusing themselves with some stupid bird. ‘ _Look at Jonny, picking up a fight with something four times bigger. Look how it gets beaten down, doesn’t it remind you of him?’_ And then they would laugh, and look at each other in the eyes, and read books or do whatever the hell retired couples do.

It made him want to puke.

“I'm fucking fantastic, never better". He grabbed a cigarette, and looked for something to light it with.

“Jonny...”

He ignored him, inspecting his pockets for some sort of lighter or match or whatever.

“ _Jonny.”_ More insistent.

“Is it really that bad? Out here? Can’t you see that-" he cut himself, shaking his head.

Of course they didn’t see. For them this was hell. They couldn’t wait for the moment it ended, and they were allowed to go back to their stupid planet and find some stupid farm, and leave Jonny there like a good memory. Go where he couldn’t follow.

“See what?” Bertie tentatively asked, with a hand on his shoulder.

He should shook it away.

He didn’t.

“Nothing. Drop it.” He took another drink.

“I'm not sure-" Bertie started.

That was it. He was no way near drunk enough for this, and there was no way he would be having this conversation if he would remember it.

( _He always remembered everything now, no matter how many bottles)_

“I'm going to gamble with Pablo", he got up.

Or ratter tried to, because something shoved him back down. Someone. Tim.

“We'll drop it. Just, don’t go. Not today" he asked, not letting go of his arm.

Were it anybody else, he would have shot him through the head. His hands went to his pistol, in fact, but didn’t do anything with it.

He wanted to leave. Drown himself in alcohol, like he had first intended. He didn’t want to leave, not with the way Tim’s hand was still on his arm. Not with the way they looked at him.

He said they'd drop it, right?

He took another drink before going back to them. Sitting on Tim’s lap, he was once again shoved into his chest, with Bertie curling in the space between his shoulder and Tim.

This was... nice. He rested his chin on a shoulder.

“We still have a few minutes left" Bertie said. Tim hummed in acknowledgement.

None of them spoke.

“I never’ve seen a goose, but I had chickens. They were assholes, always biting me whenever I got close, even if it was to feed them”, Jonny started.

“One time, one of them died. In the middle of the night, don’t know why. They just, kept eating it, the body. Bloody furious they got when I got rid of it.” And so did his parents, he remembered. They couldn’t eat it, so why the fuck was he throwing away free chicken food? It had just felt wrong, and not even after the spanking they gave him he changed his mind.

If he could see himself now, he thought. The same mad look on his eyes as those stupid animals. “A few days later, a chicken tried to eat the eye of another one. And then another, until it succeeded. We had to put it down.”

They didn’t say anything.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is that if you two are going to name something after me, it should probably be a chicken.”

Tim was fast to answer. “You’re not coming?” he tried to catch his eyes, but he wouldn’t be able to, not unless Jonny moved.

Jonny where this was going. He tried to take it through another path. “Didn’t know I was invited"

“You always are,” said Tim, giving him a kiss on the head.

He just hummed happily. There, now they could leave this behind, get Bertie drunk and have wasted sex.

“You did", said Bertie on a low voice, and he almost didn’t catch it. He got up from his shoulder, now looking at him with a frown on his face. “We always tell you that you’re included. Than when we get out of here, we’re taking you with us".

Jonny tried to play it off. “Well, you know, a little reassurance never hurt anybody", he told him, smiling.

“Yes, but it this isn’t that. When you got mad before-" Jonny cut him.

“You said you would drop it", he growled.

“We did", Tim said in a warning tone, directed at Bertie.

Tim wanted to know what was wrong with Jonny, he really did. But he knew how it went, and he didn’t want him to leave them. He needed him, today. It had been two years of war, and there would probably be many more, but they were together. Alive.

Bertie caught on the tone, and shut up. But he still wanted to know. He burrowed his head on Jonny's neck, huddling in there, before going back and start leaving small kisses on the area.

Jonny knew what that stupid twat was doing, being all so sweet. It was his way of saying I want to know, but I won’t push. You can tell me, you are safe, I want to help. I love you.

Bullshit. Pure bullshit it was. They didn’t want to know that, that they only got to be together as long as the lasers kept shooting.

He tried to stop him, distract him. Found his mouth and tried to deepen the kiss, make it faster, but the dick would just remain unmoving, not even opening his mouth.

Jonny was still trying when he felt something on his neck, kissing and nuzzling as soft and patiently as Bertie before.

There were hands on his hair. Behind his ear. On his back tracing a line over his spine, up and down.

Jonny bit Tim’s ear in defence.

It was quite a strong bite, he knew by the way Tim flinched back with a small scream of surprise, putting a hand on his ear. He had barely contained from drawing blood. Bertie was taken back, also, looking at Tim to see if he was okay.

They knew the risks, anyway. Maybe now they would stop.

He felt cold without the two men over him.

He shoved his head on Bertie’s shoulder. Jonny didn’t want to worry anymore. He just wanted to get drunk and get them both drunk and everything to be fine.

It was his fault. He had just been feeding the fantasy for what, a year and a half? More?

There was a hand on his back again, and what he guessed was a mouth and a chin on his hair. It did not try to kiss him, though, so it was fine.

They had told him that they wanted him to go back with them, and he had always smiled. Or kissed them. Or called them gay. He knew that they were assuming that it was a yes, a confirmation. He told himself that it was their fault for getting excited.

He never said yes.

But he also never said no.

Another hand petting the hairs of the base of his neck.

He tried to leave, but the hands kept him in place.

(He could leave if he wanted to. He was stronger than them, and was willing to hurt them.

Or he could just safeword, and they would stop.

Even if he wiggled a little more, they would worry and get his hands off him.

He choose to ignore this.

He wasn’t being petted. He was bound still while they petted him. There was a difference.

He could actually cope with the last one)

He shouldn’t have kept it for so long. He should just tell them and be over it. But he didn’t want them to leave.

Maybe they’d stay? Enjoy what they had, while they had it.

Why would they? Getting all attached, having some stupid feelings for what, exactly? A couple years of sex and illusions. For how long would they miss him, after?

Would they?

Would he?

He would miss them all right. The war would end, and he would be back in the Aurora, and he would think of all of this little moments. How they hoped, believed in a future where it was only the three of them. No Lenny, no Starborn division. No war.

How he had hoped it too.

He would get drunk. So much drunk. He would probably kill himself a couple times, do stupid things that made the Doc mad with him.

He could also get it over with, right now. Before he got too comfortable.

He had a laser and a thousand targets to deal with what came after.

He could do it. Brian would be so proud of him.

“I did know I was invited" he finally said.

The only indication that he had been heard was a pause on the petting, before continuing.

“I... I just can’t. Go. Do that.” He hoped he was being clear enough.

The hand of his back stopped, the one on his hair retreated. Jonny shoved his head into Bertie’s, huddling.

It was Bertie who spoke. “Why can’t you?” he asked in a gloomy way.

Jonny started chewing on his cheek. How was he supposed to explain? He hadn’t told them about Carmilla, who she was _exactly_ , at least. They didn’t know he had people to return to.

“I... I am here because... she said I needed time to think. That it’d do me good. Then I have to go back to her, _Carmilla._ ” He whispered the name.

God, he looked like a child, afraid to say a name, hiding his face on someone’s shoulder.

Both of them went still, looking at each other.

They didn’t know who she was, only that it was bad. They had first learned the name as his safe word, and then in nightmares when he started to spend the night. Jonny never wanted to talk about it.

Bertie had once asked him, feeling like they had progressed enough in their relationship to allow the intimacy. Jonny had lay still for an eternity, in dissociation or flashback he could not tell, until he got up, dressed and marched out of the tent. They didn’t saw him until two weeks later, in the middle of the field, covered in blood and with Lenny’s lasers on his hands, wearing the same clothes.

They never asked again.

So, to say that they were insecure of how to proceed was an understatement.

Tim got his hand back on him and Bertie did the same at seeing that it wasn’t unwelcomed. He was about to say something when Jonny spoke again.

“It's not that I don’t like it here. I love it. This are the best years of my life so far- and believe me, I had plenty. But then I go back to her, and I never see you again".

That was it. He was done with explaining. Now it was out of his hands.

Bertie thought about what he said. This person, Carmilla, she seemed to have some control over him. _Over Jonny_. It had to be something big. Was she threatening him? He couldn’t imagine Jonny bending for threats against himself, maybe someone else? He never mentioned anyone from before, so it seemed like a far shot. Maybe she was just that powerful.

He tried not to think about how little he seemed to know about Jonny.

It was Tim’s voice that got him out of his introspection. “We could help you. Escape her, I mean. We could run away, all three".

Jonny smiled. He imagined them on the run, fake documents and all. Bertie going by a fake name, and finally getting to use his theatrical abilities, as he called them. Tim stealing money as soon as Bertie turned his back, and insisting later that it had all come from the kindness of the heart of the people from whatever city they were in. Looking at the sky, telling them stories of the places he had been. Actually playing the music he wanted to, without the Doc imposing herself all over his style.

He wanted that.

Carmilla had put some tracker inside of his mechanism, he knew. It was how they had found Ashes the first time they escaped. He also suspected that the Toy Soldier had orders from her.

(He hadn’t dated yet to ask it what those were)

She would find him. She always did. And then she would be so, so angry. He didn’t know what she would do. Besides, she would probably kill Bertie and Tim when she found out why he escaped. Or worst, they would convert them, making sure that he wouldn’t leave again.

He couldn’t allow that to happen. Not to Tim, and definitely not Bertie.

Eternity would destroy Bertie. He did not want to know what it would do to Tim.

And there was the rest of the crew. He couldn’t just leave them with her. The only reason she had to force him to come down here was because he wouldn’t abandoned the rest.

Nastya had actually made him promise that he wouldn’t forget her. As if she believed he would not go back to the Aurora. To her.

He couldn’t leave them.

“I can’t leave my crew with her. They... I have my sister. And my friends. I can’t do that to them" Jonny said after a while.

The other two didn’t say anything, but they understood. Bertie would never leave his little brothers and cousins for anything in life if he thought they were in danger, and Tim, even if he couldn’t care less about his family, he knew what it was to have people to die for. He had come here, after all.

But still. “We-.” Bertie started, but was interrupted by a beep beep coming from his clock.

The time was up. _Convenient_ , he thought to himself.

Jonny, as keen for supressing feelings as ever, rapidly took his chance. “Oh, wouldn’t you look at that, seems like time is over” he untangled himself from the mess of hands he was buried in.

“Jonny-,” started to say Tim, reaching his arm to grab his, but the man evaded him and instead took a swig.

He put the bottle down, and raised it on their direction. “Nope. Those were the rules. We can either stay here and drink, or get out and do something, but it’s enough sulking for now.”

Much to everyone surprise, it was Bertie the first to grab the alcohol and follow Jonny’s lead. They had been in that hell for two years already, and would probably be for at least another one. They would have plenty of time to discuss their feelings, when they felt ready for it. Until then, there was good alcohol and a big bed to cuddle in.

They would be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> First off, if there's any tag you think i missed, please let me know! Also, i would love to hear what you think of it.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments feel like when the electricity stops working, and after hours of either waiting and/or trying to fix the stuff, it suddenly starts working again, and you can finally go to sleep in peace.


End file.
